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Red flashed me a smile that showed the top row of his teeth. “An arms deal of course. Come along.”
I sat still, not convinced. Something felt wrong. I felt like a death row inmate being walked to my execution.
Red beckoned with one hand. “Come now, Seth. There is nothing to be concerned about. I’ll just collect my fee, make the introductions, and we can be on our way. I’ll have you back to the hall in time for this evening’s performance.”
An arms deal? In North London. Red wasn’t even sweating. Clearly, he had ice water flowing through his veins. I’d only been looking for information but now I found myself accessory to who knew how many crimes.
Red put his hand on the door and leaned down. “Now, Seth. You might make them nervous if you stay in the car. Two minutes, in and out. We’ll be fine.”
I let out a deep breath and opened the door.
I followed Red, who strode boldly between the two groups. Both parties regarded each other with equal parts skepticism and greed. It was the kind of gathering only absurd economic gain could make you foolish enough to attend.
“Greetings, everyone,” Red began. “I’m glad you could make it. I thought it prudent we should meet to discuss this lucrative new opportunity. If we’re going into business together, you both need to know who you’re dealing with. I always find such things encourage a modicum of restraint and self-control. Always easier to keep trust with those you’ve met face-to-face. Those you have had the opportunity to look in the eye and get the measure of.”
“Who’s the kid, Red?” one of the open-collared thugs called. The bottom half of his face was completely obscured by three inches of scraggly sandy beard.
“How rude of me,” he replied, placing a hand on his vest. “Allow me to make some introductions.”
“I’d rather you didn’t,” I muttered through clenched teeth, quietly enough that only Red could hear me.
If Red heard me, he certainly didn’t pay me any heed. “This is Seth Caldwell, heir to the Caldwell mining concern. A new friend and somewhat reluctant venturer into this world of ours.”
“What’s he doing here?” the thug asked, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.
Red licked his lips. “It’s bring your apprentice to work day, and I could hardly leave him sitting at home. What would his mother think? I need to set an example. Come now, Victor, you of all men should know the importance of doing one’s part.”
Victor bristled, his hands forming into fists at his side. “If you aren’t going to give me a straight answer, simply say so. Don’t waste my time with your endless gas bagging.”
Red fixed Victor with a stare that silenced the thug. “While we’re making our introductions, Seth, this is Victor Stedding of the scandal embroiled establishment known as the Churchmen. These are his crew, including his brother, Tony, that particularly enchanting gentleman in the blue shirt. Tony, have you been working out? You look ... larger than I remember. Good for you. Where do you find the time?”
He shook his head as he looked at the mountainous thug. “Normally they would be joined by their brother, Adam, but if I’m not mistaken, he is currently serving a stint in Wakefield for armed robbery. I certainly hope you’re not planning to use any of these wares for something nefarious.”
Red pointed a finger at the polymer case in the middle of the warehouse.
When Victor didn’t respond, Red simply thrust his hands into his pockets. “Of course you are. Not to worry, Victor, your secret is safe with me.”
He rounded the crate, heading for the couple. “Seth, these are a few of our friends from across the Atlantic, an ambitious couple who prefer to stay on their side of the ocean but have deemed this little opportunity worth a brief jaunt across the Atlantic. Meet Lance and Charity. Don’t let the name fool you, there are no freebies where they are concerned but fortunately, they have excellent connections. They always manage to find me the most exceptional hardware.”
Lance nodded and removed his aviators. He looked to Knight. “Red, normally we love to hang about and chat, but can we take care of business? Charity and I are on a tight window.”
Red nodded. “As am I. But if this little concern is to get off the ground, we best all understand how it will function. Lance and Charity will provide the toys. I’ll facilitate the shipping and customs, for a healthy fee off the top of course. A gentleman would charge ten percent but hell, I just wouldn’t feel right if I took anything less than twelve, so let’s call it fifteen, shall we?”
Red raised his hands as if inviting a response. When no one moved, he smiled. “Excellent. I’ll ensure the guns arrive safe and sound, bypassing the local authorities without any issue, and the Churchmen can take delivery, right here in London in the heart of their territory. What you do with the guns after that, is up to you. Payments will be cash on delivery. Are there any questions?”
Victor took a step toward Red. “No, but I do want to inspect the merchandise. Make sure it lives up to our expectations. We’ve been burnt before. Dud merchandise makes us look bad to our buyers.”
“We wouldn’t want that now, would we?” Lance said, stroking his chin. “The merchandise is good. Come look for yourself.”
He lifted the lid on the polymer case. Packed neatly within it was row upon row of assault rifles. I didn’t recognize the make, but the barrels looked heavily modified. The crate must have had at least a dozen rifles. Beside them were enough magazines to start a small war.
“The KNG 450,” Lance said. “Next-generation hardware, fresh from the lab. It packs a savage round that will punch through most standard issue body armor. A sustained burst will cut through a Kevlar vest with terminal consequences for the owner. These rifles are the latest toy out of Harrington Industries. Earmarked for their government contracts, we’re the sole distributors of a small consignment of each manufactured run. They are unmarked and untraceable.”
He lifted one of the rifles, fitted a magazine, and pointed it at a mannequin wearing a vest and standing in front of a crate about thirty feet away. Before anyone could react, he fired off a three round burst. The modified barrel seemed to act as a silencer, muffling much of the blast. The rounds slammed into the mannequin, pummeling its midsection. What was left of the mannequin teetered before collapsing to the ground. Two small craters pockmarked the crate behind where it had been standing, and splinters littered the floor around it.
Placing the rifle down, Lance pointed at the mannequin. “See for yourself.”
Together, Vincent, Red, and I made our way down range to the mannequin. My eyes bulged as I studied the lightweight tactical vest strapped over the mannequin’s torso. The first round seemed to have been absorbed, but the second and third had drilled straight through the mannequin’s body, blossoming outward as they passed through the rear of the vest.
Lance looked at the ruined mannequin with pride. “Enough to ruin a man’s day.”
As Vincent eyed the carnage, there was a gleam in his eye. Like a child on Christmas morning. “Yes. These will do nicely.”
“Excellent,” Red replied. “There is just the small matter of payment for this shipment, and of course my fee, and you can be disturbing the peace with the finest merchandise this side of the Atlantic Ocean. I dare say you’ll be making a killing.”
“Yes, I dare say we shall. How many did you bring with you?” Vincent asked, his eyes never leaving the weapon in Lance’s hands.
Lance grinned and lowered the weapon. “The first shipment is a hundred. Once you make payment, they’re all yours.”
“Yes, those will do nicely.” Vincent reached behind his back and pulled a pistol out of his waistband, leveling it at Lance. “Hand over the weapon.”
The arms dealer went to raise the rifle but Vincent had the drop on him. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
“Now, now, Vincent,” Red chided. “You know how business is done. You can’t just help yourself to the merchandise without payment.”
“Shut up, Red,” Vincent said. “I know you’re responsible for Adam getting nicked. Anonymous tip, my arse. A friend in the department played us the tape. It was you.”
Red wrinkled up his nose.
“Sell out a client? I would never, Vincent, and you should know better. What reason would I have for getting junior nicked? It makes no sense. Someone’s played you for a fool. Now put that gun down before this afternoon grows rather unpleasant.”
“I think not.” Vincent moved the pistol from Lance to Red.
Tan’s arm rose and a flash of silver whistled past me. Before Vincent could draw a bead on Red, a knife plunged through his forearm.
Vincent’s remaining thugs reached the polymer case and grabbed rifles of their own. Charity dove into the back of the truck. Lance fired twice. The shots slammed through Vincent’s chest, sending him down in a gurgling heap.
Charity scrambled deeper into the truck, which was loaded with more of the same polymer carry cases. The remaining Churchmen loaded magazines into their weapons and opened fire. Tan, pistol in hand, let off a few covering shots as Lance, Red, and I scurried behind the wall of crates. No fewer than half a dozen of the silenced weapons opened up.
The Churchmen let out a withering hail of fire that shredded the pallets as we hunkered behind them. Lance squeezed off the occasional round, added to by Tan, but we were overwhelmingly outgunned and running out of time. As I thought about the string of terrible decisions that had led me here, I found myself wondering just how shortsighted I’d been to think any brief appointment with Edward Knight would be something that I would want a part of.
Crouching behind the crate, I didn’t dare poke my head around it for a better look.
“Seth,” Red called, “care to lend a hand?”
The lad is unarmed,“ Lance said. “He’ll be cut down.
Red flashed him a grin. “He doesn’t need a weapon. He is a weapon.”
Lance furrowed his brows as he looked me up and down. Cowering behind the crate as I was, I didn’t look like much and if the steady fusillade continued to pick away at the crate, it was going to turn us all into a fine red mist. The rounds had made short work of the vest. Tony and his friends had us dead to rights.
Lance glanced around the crate. “They’re fanning out. If we don’t do something soon, they will flank us. We’ll be as good as dead.”
I risked a glance around the crate to find one of the Churchmen making his way towards us, the rifle raised to his shoulder as he steadily picked away at the crate.
“If I stick my head back out there, it’s as good as gone,” I replied. “Besides I’m not one of your thugs, Red. You got us into this mess—you get us out.”
Red placed a hand on his chest. “I might have set the meeting, but Vincent’s greed got us into this mess, and I dare say you have a vested interest in getting out of here alive. So if you wouldn’t mind, dispense with the Boy Scout routine and help get us out of here, preferably in one piece.”
More rounds slammed into the crate we were sheltering behind.
Lance shouted over the din, “Charity, a little cover, please, dear.”
The staccato of another assault rifle joined the fray and the flanking Churchman went down. As he fell, I leaned around the crate, focusing on the massive form of Tony, and bellowed, “Fuerza!”
The fist of power slammed into Tony like a rampaging bull that he never saw coming. The spell sent him flying fifteen feet before he slammed into the crate of assault rifles. Lance took down another before Red, pistol in hand, rounded the crate, dropping a third.
One of the Churchmen turned his weapon on Charity who was standing in the back of the truck, pinning their reinforcements behind the SUVs.
“That’s my wife!” Lance shouted over the chaos. He fired a three round burst that tore the thug’s chest apart.
Two thugs snapped off rounds as Tony scrambled to his feet. Reaching into the crate, he snatched up an armload of rifles and magazines and legged it for the SUVs.
Charity unleashed a withering salvo after them that shattered the vehicle’s rear windshield.
The SUV’s engine started and there was a squeal of rubber on concrete as the SUV drove straight through one of the warehouse’s closed garage doors and out into the street.
The garage went still, and Charity climbed down from the truck, making her way over to us.
One of the Churchmen lay bleeding where Charity’s round had taken him in the shoulder.
Red drew his pistol.
“You should know better,” he muttered, and then pulled the trigger.
The Churchman went still, and the warehouse was quiet once more.
Lance wrapped a protective arm around Charity as he surveyed the chaos. “Never a dull moment with you, Red.”
Red holstered his pistol. “Lance, Charity, my apologies for the failed introduction. Vincent was as short sighted as his stupid brother.”
“Those arses stole our rifles,” Charity said, shaking her head. “They’re lucky we are on a schedule.”
“You needn’t worry about them,” Red replied. “I’ll clean this up. You have my most sincere assurance that the lost portion of your shipment will be recovered. Rest assured, I’ll make payment for the entire load. I’ll find a new buyer for these, and those that will follow.”
“When you say deal with them?” Lance asked.
Red straightened his suit. “They should know better than to break faith with me. Tony will meet with a terrible accident and we’ll see to it that the rest of their organization is disbanded, with prejudice. As for the weapons, Tan will process payment before you are back in the air.”
Red nodded at his bodyguard. “Tan, see to it that the rest of the shipment is safely stored and paid for, along with a little something for the inconvenience.”
Charity beamed. “Such a gentleman. Red, it’s a shame you don’t make it to New York more often.”
“If only.” Red nodded, surveying the warehouse. “What a mess. Tan will accompany you to ensure you make your plane safely.”
Lance wrapped his arm around his wife and escorted her back to the truck.
Tan looked at Red.
“Oh, don’t worry, Tan. I’ll be perfectly safe with Mr. Caldwell. We have an understanding, and I dare say he wouldn’t be foolish enough to repeat the mistakes he’s witnessed today.”
I brushed some dust off my suit. “I am a man of my word. Your boss will be safe with me.”
Tan slipped his pistol back into its holster and followed Lance and Charity back to their truck.
As they left the warehouse, Red looked at the truck. “Such a lovely couple. Dangerous but lovely, and utterly infatuated with each other. You should look them up if you’re ever back in New York. They’ll show you a marvelous time. Take Lara. It will be a hoot.”
I stopped, my eyes lingering on Knight. Hers was the last name I’d expected to hear out of his mouth. He knew far more about my life than I’d given him credit for. He’d done his research, and the none too subtle reminder that his deadly colleagues resided in the same place as my fiancée was no accident.
Red cracked a small grin as he opened the door of the sedan. “We best be going too. The police will be here any minute.”
I climbed into the backseat of the vehicle and in no time, we were heading south toward Albert Hall.
After several miles, I turned to Red. “How can you sell weapons to people like that?”
Red took a deep breath. “In the spectrum of criminals in this world, Seth, the Churchmen are positively tame. Your upbringing has kept you from seeing the worst the world has to offer. If I don’t buy the guns, they will be sold elsewhere. At least this way I know that they’re not going to African warlords or Jihadis in the Middle East.”
“You’d have me believe you do it for the greater good?” I asked, looking him in the eye.
“I’m a businessman, not a saint,” he said, returning my gaze. “But I do have principles. I’m sure you understand. I believe you operate by a code of your own. You take things that don’t belong to you, and you don’t do it for the money, so either you like the rush, or you have a code. I sincerely doubt it’s the former.”
I looked out the window. I certainly did have a code, though I had made more compromises than I would have liked in the past twenty-four hours. I wanted to cure the curse, but I didn’t want to sell my soul to get there.
I’d always been proud of who I was. Sure, I’d taken things that didn’t belong to me, but I was working to make the world a better place. I could look at myself in the mirror and be happy with what I saw.
I needed to make sure that didn’t change.
“I couldn’t help but notice that you seemed to pull your punches with Tony. He was shooting at us, could well have killed any or all of us. Why not hit him with something a little more, well, terminal? Your neck was on the line just like ours. Why not put him down for the count?”
“I’m a thief, not an assassin,” I said.
“Fascinating. Just fascinating.” Red rested his head on his hand. “You’ll be glad to know I’ve reconsidered my earlier position.”
I craned my head to get a better look at him. “What position is that?”
“The information you’re after. I think we can come to an arrangement after all.”
I wrung my hands. “Why the change of heart?”
“I’ve never seen magic done up close before,” he said, a little giddy. “That was a real treat. It’s difficult to believe it without seeing it with your own eyes. Maybe it’s the child in me, but I feel positively delighted. I think we can work something out.”
“What about your clients? They’ll know someone told me where to find them. They’ll certainly suspect you,” I countered.
“Let me worry about that.” He waved a hand. “Besides, they seem far more interested in you than me.”
“I’m aware. One of their hit squads was waiting for me at the airfield this morning.”
The car wove effortlessly through the London traffic.
Red’s eyes widened. “They loathe wizards on the best of days but they seem to have an especial hatred for you. What did you do to enrage them so?”
“I have something they want,” I replied, not looking to give Red anything he might use against me. “Someone stole it from them, and I liberated it recently.”
“Ah, that’s why you were so popular yesterday? You stole it from the Americans.”
I leaned back in the seat. “It has always been ours. Now it’s back where it belongs.”
Red smiled, that same wide grin that showed his top row of teeth. “I have no doubt. It was a brazen heist, Seth. You have a gift. One I may have need of one day. I’ll tell you what. I’ll tell you the location to which I delivered the Inquisition’s goods in exchange for you doing me a favor.”
“I won’t kill for you, Red,” I replied. “I’m not going to be your wizard for hire.”
Red laughed openly. “Nothing so sinister, Seth. You seem to be good at taking things. One day I may need you to take something for me. You grant me this favor and I’ll give you the location of your lost temple.”
I had to fight to stop my jaw from dropping open.
“Yes, Seth, I know exactly what you’re after and the Inquisition has a week’s head start on you. Do we have a deal?”
If the Inquisition were already at the temple, I didn’t really see that I had any choice in the matter. A week was already too much of a head start. With their hatred for all things arcane, I’d be lucky if there was anything left. There might be artifacts being destroyed that could hold the secrets to lifting my curse.
On the other hand, owing a favor to Edward Knight was a deadly proposition. He might appear to be a gentleman, but I’d seen the cold, calculating killer that rested just beneath his cheery disposition. He’d shown with the Churchmen that he was more than willing to get his hands dirty when things didn’t go his way.
Try as I might, I didn’t see that I had any other choice in the matter. I reached out and took his offered hand.
“Excellent!” Red replied. “I think this is going to be the start of a wonderful relationship.”
The driver put on his blinker and pulled over to the side of the road. We were back at Albert Hall.
Red pulled out a card from his pocket, scribbled on the back of it, and handed it to me. “Those are the coordinates where I delivered the Inquisition’s shipment. Excavation equipment and enough manpower to start a coup. If you’re swift, perhaps you can find what you’re looking for.”
I took the card and slipped it into my inner coat pocket.
“Do be careful, Seth. You owe me a favor and I plan to collect on it. Don’t go getting yourself killed on me, please.”
I reached for the door handle. “I’ll do my best not to die on you.”
Charles waited less than a dozen paces from where I’d left him, relief evident on his face as I emerged from the sedan.
I headed straight for the car, my mind racing. I had the location of the lost temple of the Brujas de Sangre. I’d made a deal with the devil, granted a devil in a three-piece suit, but a devil nonetheless.
The origin of my curse was finally within my grasp, but what price was the Red Knight going to extract from me?